A Shadow in the Glass: Deleted Scenes & Bonus Materials
by Esther Huffleclaw
Summary: Bonus materials for my Star Wars rule 63 story, A Shadow in the Glass.
1. A Haze of Agony

"Anneke!" Obi Wan grabbed at his apprentice's shoulder, but she was out of reach already, charging at Count Dooku. He ran after her, swearing under his breath.

When she stopped suddenly, he nearly reached her, but Dooku struck her with lightning, flinging her against the wall. Part of him wanted to rush to her side, but it would do no good, and Dooku was turning to him now. He could still sense Anneke's Force presence. She was unconscious, but alive.

He advanced on Dooku, his borrowed blue lightsaber at the ready. He missed the familiar green blade of the one he had lost, missed the feel of the hilt in his hand. This one was functional, but didn't feel like it belonged to him.

Dooku was a greater swordsman than Obi Wan had imagined. Trained by Yoda, he had clearly continued to practice after leaving the Jedi Order. "Come, come, Master Kenobi," he said in a mocking tone. "Master Yoda holds you in such high esteem."

Panting, Obi Wan stepped back to look for an opening. It had been a long day already, and he found it difficult to catch his breath. He had no options though; Anneke was down and there was no time to call for backup. He advanced again, his saber a flurry of motion, driving Dooku back.

Hope rose up within him, but Dooku recovered and then it was Obi Wan who was retreating. He stumbled, and the red blade flashed inside his guard, striking his shoulder. His lightsaber slipped from his fingers to skitter across the floor. The red blade flashed again, catching the outside of his lower thigh. Gasping in pain, Obi Wan fell to his knees. Why had he thought the two of them could handle Count Dooku?

All the pain and exhaustion that he had been holding at bay crashed in on him. Through a haze of agony, he looked up to see the red blade raised to end him. He closed his eyes. A crash of lightsaber blades meeting snapped his eyes back open, and Anneke was there, her blade blocking Dooku's, green and red light locked together.

"Brave," Dooku sounded surprised, "but foolish. I would have thought you had learned your lesson."

"I'm a slow learner." The cheeky edge to Anneke's voice brought a smile to Obi Wan's lips.

He called his borrowed lightsaber back to his hand. "Anneke!" he called, tossing it to her. The effort knocked him off balance and he nearly fell. He caught himself with a hand on the floor, and a wave of dizziness washed over him.

With a blade in each hand, Anneke pressed Dooku back, putting him on the defensive. For a few surreal minutes, it looked like she might be able to defeat Dooku. But what he could feel boiling within her felt far too similar to what he could feel from her opponent. Obi Wan's heart sank. His Padawan's passions always worried him, but had never seemed so raw, so near the dark side, as now. He desperately wanted to help her, but he couldn't move, could barely keep his eyes open.

Dooku retreated before Anneke's onslaught, but Obi Wan sensed that the Sith was playing with her. He opened his mouth to warn her, but it was too late. The tide of the battle turned, and now Anneke was retreating, until her back hit the wall. The blue lightsaber fell from her grasp, and she frantically blocked with only the green. Obi Wan gritted his teeth, trying to struggle to his feet, trying to draw on the Force, but his body wouldn't cooperate.

A bolt of agony from Anneke's Force presence speared through Obi Wan's skull, and the smell of burnt flesh assaulted his nostrils. He stared in shocked horror as her right arm fell, sheared through at the elbow.

She fell to her knees, and her blue eyes met his. The pain and fear there broke his heart. "No!" he cried, his voice cracking.

Her eyes slipped shut, and she fell to the side, landing in a heap on the floor, like a broken doll discarded by a child. Obi Wan's chest tightened, and his gaze flashed up to Dooku where the Count stood over her, lightsaber raised. Obi Wan couldn't breathe, could hardly see. His eyes were filled with tears. The thought of losing her was like a vise around his throat, cutting off his breath. He had never felt so helpless.

Expecting the red blade to fall at any moment, Obi Wan was puzzled when Dooku stood as if frozen. Then the Count said, "Master Yoda," and Obi Wan realized another Force presence had entered the room. His pain and grief had muddled his senses.

"Count Dooku," Yoda said quietly, and Obi Wan allowed himself to hope. If anyone could defeat Dooku, it was the one who had trained him.

Dooku flung machinery and chunks of the red stone at Yoda, bombarding him with projectiles, but the small Jedi master deflected everything with ease. Dooku's rage seethed through the Force, a dark cloud of violence. He flung lightning from his fingertips, but Yoda deflected that as well.

Obi Wan dragged himself over to where Anneke lay. She was unconscious, her breathing shallow, but she would live. He took her left hand in his, swallowing the sobs he would not let out.

A screech of rending metal brought his head up. A crane overhead, torn free of its moorings by Dooku, fell toward them. Obi Wan raised his hand and stopped it, the Force flowing shakily through his damaged body. Then Yoda's strength joined his, and they lifted it and set it aside.

The sound of engines starting drew Obi Wan's gaze around. Dooku's ship was lifting off, and he could sense the Sith's Force presence onboard. They had failed after all.

He squeezed his Padawan's remaining hand, a wave of weariness washing over him. She could have died, and for what?


	2. A New Fear

Anneke's presence in the Force was always bright, passionate, and strong. There were times her emotions spilled into darker territory, and then worry gnawed at Obi Wan. But nothing had caused him true fear until he had seen her crumpled before Dooku. He knew that fear was dangerous, that he shouldn't allow it, but he had been unable to banish it until Yoda had arrived, rescuing both of them.

The memory of that fear drove him to meditate, but her presence in the medical bay drove him to her side. He compromised, meditating in the chair beside her bed while she slept, a part of his awareness watchful for when she would awake.

Meditation was more difficult than usual. His thoughts kept going around and around. He had failed her. When Qui Gon died, he had blamed himself… still did to an extent. But this was a greater failure. He was her master, her teacher. He should have been able to protect her.

He sensed her imminent waking, and opened his eyes. Her eyelids flickered and she clutched at the sheets with her remaining hand. Her lips moved, and he leaned closer. He thought he heard "Padraig," and he sat up slowly, a new fear twisting his gut.

Her eyes opened, and focused on him. "Master," she said hoarsely. "What happened?'

Resolutely calming himself, Obi Wan reached for a pitcher of water on a nearby table, and replied, "Yoda showed up just in time to save us, but Dooku got away." He was surprised at the hint of bitterness he heard in his own voice. He needed to meditate more. He poured the water into a glass.

Anneke sighed. "I'm sorry, Master. I shouldn't have been so reckless. I should have listened to you."

He shook his head, his lips curling in a small smile. He allowed amusement to colour his voice. "Yes, you should have." He handed her the glass of water.

A ghost of a smile crossed her face, followed by a frown. She lifted her left hand to take the glass, then gasped in pain.

Leaning forward, he held the water to her lips. "I'll call for more painkillers."

She took a sip, then shook her head. "No." She dropped her left hand on the mattress. "I had hoped it was a dream."

"A prosthetic is being made for you," he offered. "You should be able to do everything you always could."

She nodded, swallowing hard. "Did Senator Andelko make it through the battle?"

Though she tried to hide it, he felt the fear behind the question, warring with desperate hope. He closed his eyes for a moment. He should never have let the two of them go away together, but he had never considered questioning the Council's orders. He would have try to keep her away from Coruscant—and Naboo—as much as possible. Yet, he found himself reassuring her. "Yes. He's returning to Naboo in a few days."

"I'll go with him."

He sighed. It was going to be difficult to keep them apart. "No, Anneke. We have other duties now."

"The threat against him isn't gone, Master. The Trade Federation may be weakened, but they are not destroyed." Her voice was firm. "I must finish this task."

He closed his eyes against the raw emotion in her eyes, and opened his mouth to tell her no again. He paused, his eyes opening to gaze into the distance. Perhaps this would be good for her, an opportunity to say goodbye. Besides, he didn't want to teach her not to finish what she had started. He nodded, meeting her eyes again. "Return here as soon as he is safely home. The Jedi Council will have a new mission for us soon."

A true smile curved her lips and her Force presence lit up with brilliant joy. He watched as she quickly damped it down, trying to hide her feelings from him.

"Anneke," he said quietly yet firmly. "I think you have spent too much time with Senator Andelko lately. You need to focus on your duties as a Jedi. Don't forget that attachments are forbidden."

"Yes, Master." Her voice and demeanor were deferential, but she was still hiding her true feelings. Was this a mistake?


	3. A Barrier Against the Darkness

"Marry me, Anneke."

Her breath caught. How? It was impossible. The rules of the Jedi order had never felt so constricting. It was as if she were smothering. "Padraig—"

"I know. Jedi aren't allowed to marry." He took deep breath. "I've spoken to Chancellor Palpatine. He'll register the marriage without the Council's knowledge. They never have to know." He tightened his arms around her. "We don't know what tomorrow may bring, Anni. But I know I want to face it with you."

Today had brought pain and loss, and nearly death. Today had taught her that any day, any moment, could be her last. "And I want that too," she said softly. "Yes, I'll marry you." She slid her hands behind his neck, and pulled his head down for a kiss.

As their lips met, fire blossomed within her. Unlike the familiar fire of rage and pain that she struggled so to control, this was beautiful and felt so _right_. The tension drained from her muscles, and she sighed against his mouth as his arms around her waist pulled her closer. She had never thought that this could be, and it was as if a weight had lifted off her soul.

She slid her hands up into his hair, threading her fingers through the strands, and felt him shudder against her. The fire in her veins intensified, melting her bones.

He lifted his head, and stared at her, his breath ragged. "Gods," he whispered, his voice hoarse. "I don't want to wait another day. If I can find a holyman who is free tonight, will you marry me today?"

Not trusting her voice, she nodded.

* * *

><p>Lanterns glowed at intervals along the balustrade, their soft light a barrier against the darkness. Anneke stepped out onto the terrace. The unfamiliar swish of skirts around her ankles and the softness of the fabric against her skin made her feel as if she were dreaming.<p>

When she had made an offhand comment that she had nothing nicer to wear than her Jedi robes, Padraig had suggested that she look through his sister's closet. Most of Sola's dresses were much too elaborate for Anneke's tastes, but this one had caught her attention as soon as she spotted it. It was all cream lace and flowing ribbons; the intricately embroidered bodice and flowing lacy sleeves showed a lot more skin than she would have ever dreamed of showing. On Tatooine, exposed skin invited sunburn, and Jedi robes were practically prudish.

She had never worn a dress before, had never thought she would, but this was her wedding and a dress was traditional on Naboo. It made her feel more feminine than she had ever felt before, but she missed the comforting weight of her lightsaber at her hip. Dresses were made with beauty, not practicality, in mind.

Padraig stood beside the holyman at the balustrade, under the arch of a bending tree. He had changed as well, into a cream tunic over pants the soft blue of the Naboo sky. He smiled at her as she approached, and she blushed at the look in his eyes.

Taking his hand, she stepped forward into her future.


	4. An Instant Connection

_4 months before Episode III._

Anneke stepped onto the veranda at Padraig's Coruscant apartment. Her hands were shaking slightly as she secured her borrowed speeder. It had been nearly a year since she had seen her husband, and the hours since landfall on Coruscant had been torturous.

As soon as most of the Jedi Temple was asleep, she had slipped from her bed and made her way here. She sensed his presence now and, knowing his security would have announced her arrival, went to meet him.

They came together in the hallway halfway between the veranda and the bedroom, an almost violent collision of arms and hands and lips. Anneke sighed as she breathed in Padraig's scent, pressing herself against him while he held onto her as if he would never again let her go.

They stumbled into the bedroom, fingers fumbling at buttons and ties as they fell across the bed.

* * *

><p>As she slid back into her cot in the Temple in the early hours before dawn, a terrifying thought struck her, and she jumped up to check her calendar. She went cold all over, and her heart started hammering in her ears; she sank into her chair as she stared at the date. They had been so eager last night, so glad to see each other after so long, neither of them had thought to be careful, and according to her admittedly basic understanding of such things, now was the most important time for caution.<p>

Dropping her head in her hands, she closed her eyes. Should she try to talk to Padraig again? She had only two hours before the transport left Coruscant for the Outer Rim. There was truly no time, and no sense in worrying him for what could be nothing.

Closing her calendar decisively, she turned toward the 'fresher. She would deal with problems as they came, and not worry about what might be.

* * *

><p><em>3 12 months before Episode III._

Anneke woke suddenly, her body tense. She had been dreaming, but she couldn't remember what. Something tickled at her senses, and she sat up and reached out in the Force. Obi Wan slept in the next room, his mind quiet; it was nothing to do with him. Frowning, she slowed her breathing, relaxing into the meditative trance he had taught her so long ago.

Her eyes flew open. There was another presence in the Force, another life, in here! She felt an instant connection. It was new, and yet familiar, more familiar than Obi Wan or even Padraig. Her eyes widened in realization, and her hands crept down to cover her stomach. Love filled her, warring with fear that she would be discovered.

She _couldn't _be discovered. She closed her eyes again, slipping back into meditation. There were shields a Jedi could create from the Force that could prevent detection by another Force sensitive. She had practiced using such shields recently—the Separatists had dark Force users working with them.

Now, she needed them not for herself, but for her child—her child! She allowed herself a moment of joy at the thought. She was a mother. She sobered, tears pricking at the backs of her eyes—if only she had the option of sharing this experience with her own mother. But that could never be… she clenched her fists and closed her eyes, taking deep breaths to calm and centre herself. Even after four years, the pain of loss was still with her.

It was a delicate procedure, creating shields that blocked only the life within while allowing her own presence to show in the Force, but Obi Wan couldn't suspect anything. He had recently been given a seat on the Jedi Council, and his duty would be clear. Jedi were not allowed to have attachments, and here was irrefutable evidence that she had flouted that rule.

For a moment, she considered sending a message to Padraig, but she quickly dismissed the idea. It would be altogether too easy for someone to intercept it, and she couldn't afford the risk. This news would have to wait for the next time they were together… whenever that might be.


	5. No Turning Back

He had failed his apprentice. He had failed his master. Qui Gon's last words resounded in his mind: "Promise me, Obi Wan. Promise me you'll train her." He had given his word, though he hadn't wanted to—it shamed him to admit it, but he had been jealous of the girl. He had been so young and foolish, so arrogant and selfish.

He had quickly come to understand what his master had seen in her. And she had taught him so much more than he had taught her. She had taught him to go beyond the words of the mantra and truly trust his feelings. It was a lesson Qui Gon had tried to impart, and it had taken Obi Wan much too long to learn it—now that he finally understood, it was too late.

Standing beside Master Yoda in the ruined Temple, he had watched the security recordings with a broken heart. Watching Anneke leading the clone troopers to kill the Jedi was the hardest thing he had ever had to do. Until now.

"Twisted, consumed by the dark side, young Skywalker has become." Yoda's voice had never sounded so old. "Find her you must. Destroy the Sith we must."

"No." Obi Wan had never defied a higher-ranking Jedi before, but he had not hesitated. "I cannot do it."

Yoda's ancient eyes had met his, reflecting the sorrow and grief of betrayal. "To fight this Lord Sidious strong enough you are not. No time there is. Go you must."

Obi Wan had bowed his head, too weary to argue. "I don't know where she is."

"Use your feelings, Obi-Wan, and find her you will. Visit the new Emperor my task is. May the Force be with you." Yoda's voice had been gentle, even kind, but he couldn't truly know what he was asking of Obi Wan.

He had failed the principles of the Jedi Order. Attachments were forbidden, and he had allowed himself to grow attached to his apprentice.

Now, as she begged him to leave, he could feel the struggle that raged within her. And yet she had chosen the dark side. He had a duty to Yoda, to any Jedi who remained, to everything he believed in, to stop her.

"Don't make me kill you," she whispered.

"Anneke," he begged her, "don't do this." Though he knew that neither one of them could turn back now. It was too late for that.

He felt her reach out and draw the darkness close, wrapping anger around herself like a cloak. He remembered that anger—when Qui Gon had been defeated, that same darkness had promised him vengeance upon his master's killer and, for a few moments, he had allowed it to surge through his veins—but it had betrayed him, and he had nearly died with his master. Only after he had found the peace inside himself had he been able to defeat the Sith who had murdered Qui Gon.

He tried to tell himself that the figure who was now turning toward him, glowing blade in hand was only another Sith, another enemy to defeat, but no matter what she had chosen, or what she had done, Anneke would always be his family. Even as she advanced upon him and he raised his own blade in defense, he loved her with every atom of his being.

Despite her denials, he could feel her pain and distress. Something was very wrong. Even as she attacked, he sensed that she was drawing on the Force heavily for the strength to stay on her feet. He never considered taking advantage of her weakness, though—and when she fell on the rocky shore of the river of lava, he didn't hesitate to run to her side, lifting her into his arms.

She had passed out and her head fell against his chest as if she still trusted him as she once had. His heart constricted painfully. She would never trust him like that again. There was no turning back from the choice she had made.

And yet he found himself gently cradling her in his arms and carrying her to his ship. He was unsure what he would—or could—do, but he could feel the Force leading him, so he followed.

* * *

><p>With nowhere else to go, Obi Wan landed his ship at Polis Massa, where he was to rendezvous with Yoda and Senator Bail Organa. When he disembarked, they were waiting for him on the landing pad. Seeing Anneke's unconscious body in his arms, Senator Organa's eyes widened, and Yoda frowned.<p>

"Brought her here you should not have done, Master Kenobi," Yoda admonished him while Bail called for a medical team.

"I am sorry for my disobedience, Master." Obi Wan turned to the medic who rushed to his side and immediately reached for Anneke. "She is with child," he said, his voice cracking.

The medic nodded, and transferred her to a floating medical capsule. "Thank you, Master Jedi."

The silence from Yoda and Bail was deafening. Obi Wan could feel their eyes on him as he watched the medic take Anneke away. As soon as she was out of sight, he turned to face them, straightening his spine and clasping his hands behind his back.

"Master Kenobi," Yoda said slowly, his eyes searching Obi Wan's expression. "Kept this from us you have—why? Your child, this is?"

Obi Wan bowed his head and pressed the fingers of one hand to his brow. He had expected the accusation, but the distrust behind it still pained him—he didn't deserve Yoda's trust, however, not when he had known about the pregnancy for weeks now, and had kept it from the Council. Lowering his hand, he met Yoda's eyes. "Does it matter?" he asked, his voice flat and toneless. "Does that really matter now?"

Yoda tilted his head, eyeing Obi Wan closely. "Lost to you she is, Master Kenobi. Delude yourself you must not."

"I _know!_" Obi Wan burst out, anger rising up to choke him. He closed his eyes, taking deep, slow breaths to calm himself. He continued quietly, "She is lost, but the child is innocent."

Yoda nodded, his eyes thoughtful. "Right you are. Kept hidden from the Emperor the child must be."

"Master Jedi? Senator?" Three heads turned as one toward the door. The medic had returned. "We had to perform emergency surgery to deliver the babies—they are small, even for twins, but all three patients are doing fine."

"Twins?" Bail Organa asked.

"Yes, Senator," the medic replied. "A boy and a girl."

Obi Wan blinked, but said nothing. Despite everything, he was impressed with Anneke's ability to hide not one, but two, lives from the Council for so long. She could have been a great Jedi—she had been a great Jedi. He closed his eyes against the pain that welled up again at the reminder that she was no longer a Jedi, would never again be a Jedi.

Bail turned toward Yoda and Obi Wan. "My wife and I will take them in," he offered. "We have always wanted children but are unable to have any of our own."

Yoda nodded slowly. "One of them only you will take, Senator. Safer it will be to separate them." He turned his gaze upon Obi Wan. "Your responsibility the other child will be, Master Kenobi."

Obi Wan nodded, not trusting his voice. What was he to do with a child?


	6. Like a Stormcloud

Darth Sidious strode down the ramp from his ship at Polis Massa, his black robes billowing, his anger like a stormcloud around him. How dare Obi Wan Kenobi take his apprentice from him? And to try to hide her! Did he really think she could go anywhere that her master wouldn't be able to find her?

A flick of his fingers ripped the doors off their hinges, and he entered the observation post of Polis Massa, followed by a contingent of clone troopers. Why would Kenobi bring her to an observation post? It wasn't somewhere a Jedi would normally go. He must have allies, maybe among the Senators. He would look into that later. Following Anneke's Force imprint, he made his way down an empty hallway. It looked like Kenobi had fled already. No matter. He would deal with him later as well.

He found Anneke in a medical centre, hooked up to machines that kept her unconscious. They had operated on her, and taken her children. He smiled. This was a development he couldn't have predicted or manipulated, but it worked into his plans perfectly. Her anger at losing her husband would be nothing beside her anger at losing her children. He had sensed that her feelings toward Obi Wan were yet conflicted, that she could not truly see her former master as her enemy. Now, she would hate him. Oh, yes. This was perfect.

A medic stepped out of an office to confront the Sith Lord. "What are you doing in here?" he demanded, putting himself between Sidious and Anneke.

"I have come for my apprentice," Sidious replied. Despite himself, he was impressed with the medic's bravery.

"My patient is still recovering from the surgery," the medic retorted. "I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

Sidious smiled, and lifted his hands. Crackling energy burst from his fingertips, sending the medic to the floor in convulsions. "Get a medical capsule," he ordered his troopers. "We'll transfer her to the ship immediately." He watched the medic struggle against the lightning, face and body contorted in agony. To his disappointment, it didn't last long, and the medic's body went limp, lifeless.

Turning away, he walked beside Anneke as the troopers maneuvered the floating capsule that held her through the hallways. He laid one hand on the side of the capsule, watching her sleep. Everything was going according to plan.


	7. Bits and Pieces

_2 or 3 months after the end of Episode III._

Markus Jaydra peered into the dirty, cracked mirror as he rubbed brown dye into his distinctively red hair. His reflection was fragmented, like his life. He had only vague memories—bits and pieces, really—of his life before the Jedi and, in the seven years he had called the Temple home, he had known nothing else.

Squinting to see if he had missed any stray red strands, he sighed at his bright green eyes. Hair dye was relatively easy to come by—though it had to be reapplied regularly—but coloured contacts were very expensive, and it was difficult to find someone who would sell them without asking questions. He reminded himself that most people never noticed eye colour, and that no one was specifically looking for him personally, although the clone troopers—and the Emperor's apprentice, Darth Vader—were most definitely looking for any Jedi who had escaped the Purge and, if they discovered him, they would kill him immediately.

He turned away from the mirror with a grimace at his dramatic imaginings. The clone troopers would only kill him if they knew what he was—what he had been. He had ditched his initiate robes and cut off his Padawan braid as soon as he left the Temple. The only way anyone would know him from any other child on the streets of Coruscant was if they saw—or sensed—him do something with the Force.

He wrapped his tattered jacket around himself against the rain, and left the abandoned building that was now his home. Over the past months, he had become very good at hiding in plain sight. Falling into step beside a Rodian, Markus deftly relieved him of his wallet. His teachers at the Temple would never approve of this use of the Force, but they were dead, and he had to eat.

* * *

><p>Sometimes, Markus wondered what had happened to Master Skywalker—well, technically, she hadn't been a master, only a knight, but all older Jedi had been 'Master' to him. She had saved his life on that last day in the Temple. He guessed she must have died that day with the other Jedi, for she hadn't left with the initiates—she had stayed to fight. The thought saddened him. He hadn't known her well, but he owed her everything.<p>

* * *

><p>Many of the initiates had banded together after leaving the Temple, seeking companionship and strength in numbers. Markus understood, but he preferred to be alone—the more Force-sensitives in one place, the easier they would be to find. Besides, he had always preferred his own company to that of others.<p>

He did try to keep track of them, though. They were the only family he had left, and losing them too didn't bear thinking on.

* * *

><p>He might have gotten too comfortable, and maybe a little cocky. He didn't notice the cloaked figure who watched him from the shadows until a cold, bony hand fastened onto his wrist as he was slipping the Corellian's purse into his jacket.<p>

Annoyed at himself for not being careful, he looked up into the depths of a black hood, and his heart went cold. The Force warned him this was much worse than the Corellian looking for the return of his money. Markus shrank away from the sinister yellow eyes that seemed to look right through him, but the grip on his arm was implacable.

"Why hello, my young friend." The voice was smooth and honeyed, with an undercurrent of death and decay. "I believe you have something there that doesn't belong to you."

Markus tugged sharply on his trapped wrist, but the gnarled fingers were like iron bands. Terrified, he reached out for the Force, pushing the old man away—but he only laughed, a terrible wheezing laugh, his lips curling into a mockery of a smile.

"Don't worry. I'm not going to turn you in to the authorities." He leaned closer to Markus, who was surprised he didn't smell as bad as he looked. "I would like to offer you a job."

Markus stopped struggling, his eyes wide. What sort of job could this creature want him to do? He had heard stories of children disappearing from the streets into fates worse than death.

The old man continued, "It's nothing so awful as you might be imagining. I'm looking for someone I can train to be my emissary—my 'hand' if you will. You have the skills I'm looking for."

Markus shook his head. "No. I'm not interested."

Another awful smile twisted the man's lips. He gestured with his free hand, and a group of clone troopers appeared from around the corner, weapons trained on Markus. "I would have preferred you to come freely, but you will come." He waved the troopers in. "Take him away."

"Yes, Emperor."

The Emperor! Markus' knees went weak as two troopers caught him up by the arms and dragged him away. This time, Master Skywalker wasn't here to rescue him. He was truly alone.


	8. Like Her Mother

Owen Lars leaned back in his chair, watching the Jedi across his dining table through narrowed eyes. Beru joined them, handing out glasses of Bantha milk. "She's doing her chores," Owen said shortly.

Kenobi lifted his glass in a silent toast. "I'll wait."

Owen set his jaw. He was always on edge when Kenobi visited. Though the Empire had little presence on Tatooine, especially outside of major centres like Mos Eisley, the longer the Jedi was at the homestead, the greater the danger—to all of them.

Kenobi set his glass down and leaned forward, clasping his hands before him on the tabletop. "I did want to speak to you about something."

Owen's fingers tightened on his glass. "Oh?" he asked sharply.

"Lucia is already well past the age when she would have been brought to the Temple as an initiate," Kenobi began.

"There is no Temple anymore," Owen interjected.

"Yes." Kenobi's eyes met his, a weight of knowledge and power behind his gaze. "And yet, the Force is strong with her. I could teach her—"

"_No!_" Owen surged up out of his chair and brought his fist down on the table with a crack.

The Jedi's eyes widened, but he didn't flinch or give any other reaction. "She has inherited her mother's ability—"

"No!" Owen said again. Beru's hand on his arm gently pulled him back down into his seat. Kenobi had given Lucia to Owen and Beru—to her family—and Owen would be damned before he would give her up. "You are not going to take her away and turn her into a monster like you did with her mother."

Now Kenobi flinched, his fingers convulsively tightening on each other. "I have learned much since then. I will not make the same mistakes."

"No, you won't." Owen leaned forward, his hands flat on the tabletop. "Maybe you've been living across the Dune Sea for too long, but it's still illegal to be a Jedi; there's still a bounty on your heads."

Kenobi nodded, his eyes haunted. "I remember."

Owen clenched his jaw. "Then why would you want that for her?"

"I don't," Kenobi said quietly. "But I could help her learn to control her abilities, teach her how protect herself."

Owen snorted. "She won't have to protect herself if she doesn't use her 'abilities'."

Kenobi shook his head and sighed. "She deserves to know about her parents, at the least."

Owen stood up again. "No," he said flatly.

Kenobi tilted his head to look up at him. "She deserves to know."

Owen's hands curled into fists. "She deserves to know what? That her mother is a murdering psychopath?"

Kenobi flinched again, closing his eyes for a second. "She deserves to know that her mother was a Jedi, a hero."

If she knew that, she would be determined to be a Jedi herself. Owen leaned forward, setting his fists on the table. "I won't have you filling her head with Jedi nonsense. She knows everything she needs to know already." He straightened up, his fists at his sides. The best way to protect her was to keep her away from this old fool. "I don't think you should visit anymore."

Kenobi looked like he'd been struck. "I—"

Owen cut him off, flinging his hand out to indicate the exit. "Go."

Kenobi stared at him for a long moment, then slowly got to his feet. He said nothing, his movements slow and almost pained. Owen felt a twinge of sympathy—the man had lost so much—but he ignored it. This was best for Lucia. She would not have dreams of being a Jedi if Obi Wan Kenobi was not around to fuel those dreams.

Owen followed the Jedi out into the courtyard. As they passed the central vaporator, Lucia burst in from the desert and flung herself into Kenobi's arms. "Ben!" she cried, hugging him fiercely.

Owen swallowed a sudden lump in his throat. Lucia wouldn't understand. But she was still so young—in time, she would forget Ben and his visits. "Lucia," he said firmly. "Your aunt needs your help inside."

She reluctantly pulled away from Kenobi, pouting. "Are you staying for dinner?" she asked him hopefully.

Kenobi met Owen's eyes over her head. "No, Lucia," he replied. "I can't stay."

She spun around to face her uncle. "Uncle Owen?" she pleaded.

She was so young, yet already she could read the emotions in those around her; she had picked up that it was Owen who had made this decision. He shook his head, terrified at the implications. "I'm sorry, Lucia. Ben is leaving."

Her eyes filled with tears. "No!" She turned back to the Jedi and threw herself at him again, holding on like she would never let go.

Kenobi gently set his hands on Lucia's shoulders, bending his head toward her. "Lucia," he said softly, "would you do something for me?"

She nodded, stepping back to look up into his face.

He went to one knee so they were face-to-face. "I need you to do what your uncle and aunt ask you to do. Can you do that?"

She sniffled and grudgingly nodded.

He smiled. "Now go help your aunt with dinner."

Owen watched her run inside, then turned to face Kenobi. "You understand I'm doing this to keep her safe. It's not my intention to hurt anyone."

The Jedi nodded. "I do understand. I hope you're right."

Owen watched Kenobi walk away into the desert, head and shoulders bent as if under a heavy weight. He had stood in this exact spot ten years ago and watched his stepsister come back from the Tuskens camp with her mother's body. In that moment, he and Anneke had been joined in a shared grief, and he had thought that he understood her. But then, three years later, Kenobi had brought Lucia and the story of Anneke's fall to what the Jedi called 'the dark side,' and Owen realized that he had never known her.

Lucia didn't need any of that. She was safe here with her family.


	9. A Spark of Hope

Darth Vader stood back, watching the droid approach the boy. She could feel his fear, a sharp slice of darkness that contrasted with his brilliant presence in the Force. The prince's raw talent would have made him a candidate for the Jedi Order in the old days. If he was much younger, of course.

He lifted his chin, his hands clenched at his sides and defiance in his eyes, and she knew he would never give up the location of the Rebel base. This interrogation was a waste of time. She had a sudden insane desire to call off the droid, and the fingers of her flesh hand curled into a fist.

As if he sensed her conflict, the boy looked up, and their eyes locked. There was something about his eyes... A rush of memories surged through her, leaving her breathless.

_Brown eyes she could have drowned in… clear, musical laughter. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to offend. I've never heard of angels."_

_A home full of love and laughter, and a dark-haired girl who grinned as if sharing a secret. "Do you know, Anneke, you're the first girlfriend my brother's ever brought home?"_

_His lips on hers, soft and warm, igniting a fire within her that had never faded. "We don't know what tomorrow may bring, Anni. But I know I want to face it with you."_

The breath returned to her lungs in a sharp gasp. She stopped the droid with a curt gesture, and stared at those eyes, Padraig's eyes. How was this possible? Granted, she knew little of the Andelko family, had not seen any of them since that time on Naboo; it was within the realm of possibility that somewhere along the way they had intermarried with the Organas. She seemed to recall that Padraig had been very good friends with Senator Bail Organa.

And yet, Obi Wan had also counted Bail Organa among his friends. Was this why she had never been able to find any trace of the children he had stolen from her? Had he hidden them under her very nose in the Organa household? But no—the Organas had only the one child, and she had never known Obi Wan to be so devious; he had always been honest to a fault. And, surely, if this was her son, she would have sensed it before now. Her children had lived inside her for nearly eight months, and their presence in the Force had been almost as familiar as her own, but... it had been sixteen years since she had felt their Force signatures—how much might they have changed in that time?

And what if Obi Wan had separated them, giving only one to Bail? She crushed the recorder in the corner of the cell in a fist of Force energy. If Tarkin saw her hesitation here, he would certainly go directly to Palpatine, and there were too many lies and broken promises between master and apprentice for her to trust the Emperor with this.

A tiny spark of hope flickered to life within her, shining bravely against the deep darkness in her soul, and she switched the droid off. The prince's eyes were brimming with questions, but he said nothing. There were so many things she wanted to say, yet she kept silent as well; he was a Rebel—in his eyes, she was the enemy, and until she knew for sure who he was, she had to see him that way too.

Without another word, Vader left the boy's cell, her boots ringing on the deckplates as she strode toward Tarkin's office. The Grand Moff would not be pleased that she had gotten no information from the young prince. Reporting to him grated on her—she was the Emperor's apprentice, and should answer to nobody but Palpatine. However, her master had given Tarkin command over the Death Star since it was the Grand Moff's pet project, and everyone on board was under his authority. She itched to get back on her own ship and off this overpowered, unwieldy monstrosity.

Sweeping into Tarkin's office unannounced, she smiled tightly at his obvious annoyance at her rudeness. With her hood up, he couldn't see her expressions, but she could read him easily: he wanted to reprimand her, but he feared her too much to say anything. Good.

"He won't talk," she said, her voice flat.

Tarkin leaned back in his chair, and glared at her through narrowed eyes, clearly waiting for further explanation, but she stayed silent, waiting him out. Finally, he said, "Well. Perhaps he would respond to an alternative form of persuasion. Have him brought to the control room. I think it is time we demonstrate the full power of this station."


	10. Time to Come Home

With the tractor beam deactivated, Obi Wan had almost reached the hangar once again when a black-cloaked form stepped out in front of him, blocking his way. A angry red lightsaber blade ignited with a hiss and a familiar voice spoke from the deep shadows inside the hood. "Obi Wan. You should not have come here."

He activated his own saber, the green blade filling the area around him with light. The last time they had met, she had been weakened and in pain; this time, he was weakened and old. There was little chance he could defeat her. And yet, this meeting felt like it was meant to be. The Force had led him here.

Their blades met and sparks of red and green energy showered the walls and floor. Obi Wan's arms ached with the stress of the blow, and he backed away. He could feel her anger and hatred through the Force, reaching tendrils out toward him as he retreated.

"You are weak, old man," his one-time apprentice taunted him, her boots ringing on the deckplates as she followed his retreat.

Yes, and not simply physically. The last time they had met, he had held back, not willing to hurt her, and the years had not changed his feelings. She had been like a daughter, like a sister, to him. This was why attachment was forbidden.

_No_, another voice from his past whispered in his ear. _Love doesn't make you weak, Obi Wan. Love makes you strong_.

He had never thought to hear that voice again. _Qui Gon?_

_It was not your fault, Obi Wan_, his old master continued. _She made her own choice. You have done well, my friend._

She raised her saber. "Tell me where they are, and I'll let you live."

He shook his head, his heart heavy. "I cannot do that."

"Then you will die." The air between them shimmered with the strength of her rage.

He sighed, letting the peace of the Force flow through him, filling him. "You cannot win, Anneke, even if you kill me."

"Oh, I think I can." She struck again—and again… a flurry of blows meant to break through his failing defenses.

He continued to retreat slowly before the onslaught, the Force giving him the strength to continue to lift his saber when his physical body would have long since given up.

The walls fell away around him, and they were in the hangar. He hadn't meant to bring Anneke here, to where Lucia awaited him. A jolt of fear spiked through him, and Anneke's next strike nearly broke through his guard. If Anneke saw Lucia—!

_Obi Wan. It's time to come home._

_Lucia…_

_Her destiny is to bring all back into balance. See, she has already found her brother._

Obi Wan looked over his shoulder. Hanna and Chewbacca led Lucia and a dark-haired boy around her age across the hangar toward the Falcon. The two of them shone in the Force like twin suns, and Obi Wan's eyes filled with tears. Spotting the duelists, Lucia stopped and pointed, saying something to the others.

_It is time, Obi Wan_.

He closed his eyes and raised his saber in salute. He felt Anneke's satisfaction rage through the Force as she brought her blade down, and he felt Lucia's horrified grief as he collapsed, but he felt no pain. He was at peace. He was one with the Force.


	11. Raw Power

_Takes place during Chapter 10 of Episode IV. Vader's POV during the Death Star battle._

* * *

><p>Vader flung her modified TIE fighter after the Rebel Y-wings as they dove into the trench on the surface of the Death Star. Tarkin was such an idiot; if he survived this she would take great pleasure in personally crushing his windpipe. That he had left such a gaping design flaw in the battlestation's plans, and then allowed those plans to get into Rebel hands, was unforgivable.<p>

She took aim at the lead Rebel and fired, smiling in satisfaction as the ship exploded. Squeezing the trigger again, she took out the second ship, then the third. This was not even a challenge.

Another fleet of Rebel ships arrived, this one made up of the more maneuverable X-wings. She flexed the fingers of her flesh hand, then her prosthetic, wrapping them both around her controls, ready to fire. Three of the Rebel ships dropped into the trench, and she followed them, taking two out in quick succession. The third managed to fire a torpedo at Tarkin's asinine exhaust port, but it exploded on the surface with minimal damage to the battlestation.

Shaking her head at the near miss, she followed the X-wing out of the trench, but then let it go as her instruments picked up three more entering the trench behind her. She wheeled around and followed. These three were coming in hot, screaming down the trench at top speed. Fools or highly skilled pilots, but most likely fools. Another TIE delivered a glancing blow to one of them, and the small ship peeled off into space, leaving two.

She dropped in behind them, and targeted the nearest one. His ship went up in a fireball, and a surge of intensely powerful pain and anger came to her through the Force. The remaining pilot was Force-sensitive! Just as quickly as it appeared, the anguish was pulled back, subsumed under a sense of duty and purpose that reminded her sharply of Obi Wan. Could it be…?

She pulled her ship back a little, reaching out with her Force senses. This was not Prince Alaric, and yet, there was something achingly familiar about this presence. To her, the small ship glowed with raw power as it sped through the trench. A fierce certainty rose up within her: this was one of her children.

Firing on this last ship was unthinkable, but even as she watched, one of the two TIEs in her escort surged toward it. No! She reached for her trigger, but Captain Solo's ship soared in, dwarfing the tiny fighters, taking out the TIE that threatened her child. An unaccustomed feeling of gratitude filled her, and she shook her head sharply. The other TIE fled the Falcon's powerful guns, and she followed.

Behind her, she felt the torpedoes reach their target, and she smiled. While she wouldn't get the chance to personally kill Tarkin, her child had done it. And that was just as good.


	12. I Was Wrong

_Follow immediately after chapter 8 of A Shadow in the Glass Episode V: Shifting Shadows_

* * *

><p>Vader grabbed for Lucia, but her hand closed on nothing. The girl had thrown herself off the edge rather than face the truth. Reaching out with the Force, Vader tried to catch Lucia's plummeting form, but failed. Just like with Master Windu, she could do nothing but watch her daughter fall. But Lucia was strong. She would survive this. Her presence in the Force was a flickering flame that refused to fade.<p>

At first, when Lucia had attacked, Vader had felt an anger in her that was so pure she was sure that turning the girl would be a simple thing. However, as the battle had progressed, Vader had hesitated in the face of Lucia's fear, wanting only to protect her. It was foolish, and her master would be furious if he found out.

Then, she had hurt Lucia, had injured her child. And at that moment she had known that she could never hurt her again. She couldn't make her daughter walk the path of pain and fear and rage that she walked. The Emperor must be destroyed, and the reign of terror ended. But Lucia had refused to join her even then. She hadn't understood.

_Anneke_.

Vader raised her head, pressing her palms flat against the floor. Obi Wan stood beside her, his hands folded into the sleeves of his robe. She could see through him, as if he were a bad holo. He couldn't really be here. Was she hallucinating? "I killed you."

He dipped his head slightly in acknowledgement, his eyes searching hers. Even now, it still felt like he could see into her soul. _It was my time._

Swallowing hard past the sudden tightness in her throat, she curled her hands into fists against the metal deck plates, trying to hold onto the anger that had sustained her for so many years. "Why did you do it?" Her voice cracked, broke. "Why did you take them from me?"

She would have called it a sigh, but ghosts don't breathe. There was a deep sadness behind his eyes as he held her gaze. _I believed that you were lost. I was wrong_.

The breath caught in her throat, and she stared at him, her hands falling open. "No." She was shaking her head, the denial certain. "I am lost." She had walked too far down this path. She had just maimed her own child. She could never be forgiven.

Obi Wan stooped, his flickering form going to one knee before her. Lifting one ghostly hand, he brushed her hair back and laid his palm against the side of her face. Somehow, though he had no physical form, she could feel his touch. _Anneke, I am so sorry. I failed you_.

She closed her eyes, tempted to fall into his arms, to once again be that little girl who had had no family but him. She had loved him then, when he was all she had. And she had loved him when he had gone against the Council to protect her. She had never stopped loving him, even when she hated him, even now. "You were my brother," she whispered, her voice raw. "And I turned my back on you. I _killed_ you."

_Yes_. That one syllable was loaded with so much grief, so much pain, that she turned away, unable to look into his eyes. _And I turned my back on you_.

Pulling her knees up before her, Anneke propped her elbows on them and buried her face in her hands. Part of her agreed, wanted to lash out at him in rage, but she was so _tired_.

_Anneke_. His voice was insistent, yet still so kind. _I was wrong. I should never have given up on you. I should never have let Palpatine take you._

Her eyes burned with years of unshed tears. So much wasted time. And yet… "If I had not stayed with him, he would have taken them." Even as the words left her lips, she knew it was true. Palpatine would have done whatever it took to ensure her allegiance, her obedience. Her children would have been pawns, or worse. Letting her hands fall into her lap, she raised her eyes to Obi Wan. "You saved them."

His eyes widened, then a smile lit up his face. _It is not too late, Anneke. Even those who are lost may be found_.

"But… I did find them. And they want nothing to do with me." She waved a hand toward the nearby edge where Lucia had thrown herself to escape. "They'd rather die."

_I was not speaking of them_. He dropped his hand to her shoulder and squeezed gently. _I sense much love in you… and love is not of the dark side_.

Not—? But— "Love is attachment." And attachments were forbidden.

_Anneke, we were all wrong_. His eyes held hers, and the love in their depths took her breath away. _Only love can end hatred. It is the light that drives out the darkness_. He took her hands in his, folding them together. _I love you, Anneke, and I forgive you. I can only hope that someday you can forgive me_.

Her hands tightened convulsively on his as something deep inside her broke, and the tears spilled over and ran down her cheeks. Her voice was barely a whisper, and yet she knew he would hear. "I do."


End file.
